


Black Star

by Cheetara



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blood and Injury, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Nightmares, Pain, Past Torture, Recovery, Sexual Abuse, Steve Rogers as the Winter Soldier, Suffering, Violence, tiny bit of HTP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 04:58:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheetara/pseuds/Cheetara
Summary: The Asset is Steve. Things have gone to shit. Recovery and rediscovery ;)Its a bit gritty to start but I promise fluff and maybe a little smut in future chapters!





	1. Chapter 1

The asset clutched the wrist of his right arm, rivulets of fresh blood trickled down from the jagged cuts on his knuckles and hand from punching in the window of the warehouse door to gain entry. It was dark here. Dark was good, blending into the shadows. He knew how to do that, stay unseen, be a ghost again.

He pushed the pain into the dark like it was second nature. Automatic response to sustaining damage on mission, push everything down, push everything away, complete the mission. It was more efficient, safer that way. The asset ran over all the possible entrances and exits to the dilapidated warehouse, and after checking again -finally satisfied it was secure- he sat down on a couple of old dusty wooden pallets in a corner in order to assess himself more thoroughly . 

Two ribs fractured on the lower right side, heavy bruising along with it. Dislocated right shoulder – easily fixed. He flexed both hands, the metal one moving like liquid, the plates making up his musculature calibrating, the other one - not so much. Sprained middle and ring finger, minor injury, all should be healed by morning. He winced as he wiped the metal fingers under his nose, they came away coated in crimson. Fingering the shallow graze on his side of his bicep through the kevlar it came away red too. He spat on the concrete, more red, always red.. 

Weapons next. The Skorpion and M249 were lost in the fight, a shame, as if he was allowed favourites it would be those. Both Glocks were dry, low ammo on the SIG, the small pistols in his thigh holster were still fully loaded. He felt around to his low back checking his knives, the sudden twisting motion caused a bolt of pain to shoot up his spine and he had to grit his teeth to stop himself crying out. The targets had put up more resistance than he had anticipated. The woman was sharp and cunning, her close range weapons stung much worse than the average taser, and she was quick, ruthless. Familiar technique.

The man was strong and fast, maybe as much as he was. He favoured hand-to-hand combat, no guns, he fought defensively and used a shield as a weapon. The asset thought it a foolish choice initally, however after totalling up the damage he had sustained maybe he was the fool.

He stood, bracing the elbow of his metal limb against the brick wall and pressed his right shoulder into the palm of his left hand, he shoved, a quiet grunt behind the half-mask covering his mouth as the joint popped back into place. The mission was incomplete, the targets were still alive. Hydra had seeped out from within SHIELD but not to the end that had been planned. His handler had left, the asset must return to them for debriefing, for... 

To be- 

_Fixed._

Reassessing and rolling his shoulder, the asset resigned himself to sleep in order to regain full efficiency as quickly as possible. He listened, silently and as still as stone, for a good hour. When he was satisfied it was unlikely anyone was coming looking for him he gingerly lay down on the pallets, keeping his gun close to his body. His head throbbed, his side hurt, but he pushed it all down and allowed his eyes to close. 

~~

Bucky leaned back against the doorway of the fire escape, eyes screwed up, chest heaving as he caught his breath back. 

What a fucking mess. 

They had been in no way prepared for the way Hydra came at them. The only thing that hadn't surprised him was that Rumlow had switched sides. Cocky-ass motherfuckin' smug bastard that he was, Bucky should've put money on it. At least he'd left him with a fitting present, the charred and bloody mess that now made up half his face. 

Bucky spat out a mouthful of blood and wiped his lips. Clocking a metal fist in the face will do that he guessed. That was yet another one of their problems, the Winter Soldier wasn't supposed to exist, everyone supposed it was another scare story following on from the not-so-far-away-to-him Red Skull days of Hydra. The bruising all down Bucky's left side told him he was real enough. Real strong, real fuckin' fast, guns for days. He'd been on the edge of his capabilities keeping up with the onslaught. How do you beat a man that is more of a machine? Bucky shivered seeing those cold souless eyes in his mind, how easily the soldier had put down Fury, and almost Natasha. He'd heard from Nat a few minutes ago thank christ, her, Nick and Hill managed to get out and go underground. Nick was in pretty bad shape but better than dead at least.

Something Rumlow had said was eating at him.

_Aww would ya look at that, reunited at last! Did ya miss him?_

It didn't make any sense. Rumlow was an idiot though so...

Bucky had run on taking out the last few Hydra redshirts remaining, Rumlow obviously got away, so that left him in pursuit of the Soldier. So now here he was, gasping for breath in an alleyway chasing down a fuckin' phantom.

His head whipped round at the noise, quiet enough that it wouldn't register to regular human hearing, a soft mewling sort of sound. Likely a mangey alleycat, he stayed alert anyway and headed towards it sticking close to the grimy wall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just to warn you there's a tiny little hint of HTP in this chapter so tread carefully if you're not into that kind of thing.  
> Don't worry things will get better soon, but as always, first they have to get a bit worse!

_"Shove him back in, and double it this time." The grey-suited man barked and the men in lab coats jumped to attention._

_A black-clad operative looked from the man in grey back to the subject, who was currently being restrained by the rest of the STRIKE team. His eyes were alight with defiance even as he hung limp in their grasp, his half-naked body bore bloody scabs and a sheen of sweat and dirt. There was a faint smell of stale piss._

_"Sir, I'm not sure that he'll take much more-"_

_Another operative stepped up beside him, clapping a gloved hand down on his shoulder.  
"That's the idea Rollins, we break 'em down till there's nothin' left, build 'em back up how we want. Ain't pretty but it works." He gestured to the others. "Put him in the chair."_

_The subject went without resistance but tensed slightly as his bruised and broken body hit the cold and ominous-looking chair. Thick metal restraints were clamped around the upper arms, wrists, thighs and ankles, as if he'd have any energy to try and break free..._

_The second operative took a rubber gumshield from one of the labcoats and bent over the chair, waving it in the subject's terrified face._

_"C'mon doll, open up for daddy..."_

_"Rumlow, you're sick!" Rollins cackled as Rumlow grabbed the subject by the chin, pulling his lower lip and jaw down with his dirty thumb. Rumlow's wicked grin quickly faded as he was caught him off guard by the subject trying to snap his teeth around the intrusion. His nose immediately exploded in a spray of red and his face forced round to the right as Rumlow's fist connected with it. The subject spluttered and heaved as Rumlow grasped roughly at his jaw again turning his head to the front and bringing the guard back up to his bloody lips._

_"Yeah... that's it..." He smirked back at Rollins as the subject submitted, opening his mouth and allowing it to be shoved in._

_The grey-suited man's expression gave nothing away as he watched, then he headed for the door. "I'll leave you boys to get on with it, but I expect results, not a bloody pulp I'll need to scrape off the floor..."_

_With that he left._

_One of the labcoats tinkered around with the computer at the side of the chair, the subject flinching as something that looked like an oversized metal set of headphones swung down and then clamped on either side of his head, holding it in place. He was almost hyperventilating now. One of the scientists nodded and then there was nothing but the pain._

_Blinding white searing pain._

_The subject jerked and twisted against the restraints as the memory wipe clawed at his brain, picking apart and stretching every synapse, burning out all unnecessary events of his past like someone had sprayed napalm on them._

_There was an awful, terrible, gut-wrenching noise along with it. The subject didn't realise it was the sound of his own screams._

_After a few minutes of watching, Rumlow nudged Rollins. "Sometimes when I'm havin' trouble sleepin', I just imagine that sound and I doze right off. Dead to the world!"_

_The others laughed and Rumlow motioned for them to leave. "C'mon ladies, there's work to be done, can't play with the toy all day."_

_The STRIKE team filed out leaving the subject writhing in the chair as his memories were sandblasted away._


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky worked his way around the abandoned warehouse, crouching low under a broken window, the source of the strange noises on the other side of it. Inching up slowly and peering into the gloom, as his eyes adjusted to the dark he saw movement in a corner. _Someone sleepin' rough_ he thought, until the prone figure shifted again and the streetlights pouring in from outside glinted off a part of them. An arm. 

Bucky shook his head to clear it and squinted back through the glass. It couldn't be. Why the fuck would the asshole leave himself so open, sleeping, so vulnerable to attack? It didn't make any sense. Well, there was definitely no sense in wasting a perfectly good opportunity...

He sidled along to the fire escape, neatly and quietly jigging it open before slipping inside the musty building. He kept himself cloaked in shadow, eyes always on the figure, still fucking _sleeping_ right there on the pallets, the Winter Soldier, right fucking there. Was he injured? Had they actually managed to slow him down? Bucky carefully, smoothly, pulled his gun as he stalked across the debris-strewn floor. A whimper stopped him in his tracks. The soldier had started shaking, clawing his fingers into the splintered wood on which he lay, mumbling softly in some language Bucky couldn't place. The Dreamy Soldier, huh. He lifted his arm and aimed, no sense in leaving himself as open as the soldier was making himself. 

"P-please, no.." came the muffled cry from behind the mask. Bucky cocked his head, squinting, trying to get a better look in the low light. The soldier's hands balled in fists, eyes screwed shut, his body still shaking from whatever he was facing in the dream. Or more likely nightmare.

Bucky was temporarily stunned when a sudden scream ripped out of the soldier, raw and pained. He quickly regained his stance and trained his firearm back on him as the other man scrambled back, pressed against the wall, his chest heaving. He was now in the light, dirty blonde hair sticking up every which way, a gleam from the wet corners of his wide terrified eyes over the mask. 

 

__

_"Are you seriously questioning me?"_

_Rollins laughed nervously, shaking his head. "Nah man, just... what if Pierce finds out?"_

_Rumlow tilted his head back, biting on his lip. "Shithead. You think I'm the first to use it like this? Hah! Mmm, fuck yeah. Dude, this is all part and parcel, nice little extra, little perk. He's probably grateful for it to, ain't ya, huh?" Brock gripped the asset's hair tighter in his fist making him moan at the pain, then grazing his other hand over it's cheek which was damp with tears. "They don't feed you much, ahm givin' you a lil' extra.. somethin'.. A fuckin' treat for ya... -ugh fuck! Oh fuck yeah!" Rumlow jerked against the asset's face as he shot his load down it's throat, the asset choking and gagging as he rubbed at it's neck and jaw in some afterthought attempt to ease it's discomfort, pulling his dick out and wiping it over it's face and red swollen lips as the last spurts of cum dribbled out._

_"Hoo, jesus! Sharpshooter and gives head like a roadhouse slut, Hail Hydra!"_

_Rollins laughed again as Rumlow zipped up and they left the cell, the asset hunched over, still on it's knees, coughing._

 

"You - don't you fuckin' move." 

Bucky stepped one foot further towards the pallets and was instantly reminded that this was not gonna be easy. The soldier pressed off the wall and rolled forward, sweeping his leg round low and fast, knocking Bucky off his feet, shield and gun clattering to the side. Bucky flipped back up off the floor, every punch he threw was infuriatingly and expertly blocked until he managed to grab hold of the metal arm and landed a brutal uppercut to what appeared to be already fractured ribs. The soldier grunted and winced but quickly recovered and planted a solid front kick to Bucky's chest, sending him flying all the way across the room. 

Bucky scrambled to his feet, cursing. "Fuck..." Anger was getting the better of him as he grabbed his shield from nearby on the floor and launched it with furious force, his legs propelling him across the dusty floor after it. The shield bounced away from the soldier with a _prang_ as he deflected it with the silver arm. Bucky flew at him, and as he suspected, the deflection of nearly two hundred pounds of American symbolism just wasn't gonna happen.

As the soldier gave, the two men rolled across the floor crashing in a heap against the windowed wall, shards of glass raining down tinkling and crunching beneath them. Bucky came out on top, pinning his opponent with one hand firmly on the throat and raising his other hand up in a fist, ready to strike. 

Bucky found himself hesitating as the soldier's wide wet eyes, reddened from earlier tears, met his.The change in him was obvious. Someone had pulled the plug and all the attack had drained out of his body, somewhere a switch had been flipped and all Bucky could see now, looking at this half-man half-machine, was fear. Bucky pulled his fist back futher, unwilling to let his guard down just yet. Through his fingertips he could feel the thrum of the soldier's increased heart rate and the shuddering breaths he struggled to pull as Bucky bore down. 

A mumbling whimper came from behind the mask. 

Bucky sighed and brought his hand down to pull the mask off. "Y'know, you're gonna have to speak up if you-"

As soon as the rubber came away Bucky felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He wrenched his eyes away blinking hard before looking back at the man before him. 

"What, no... how? How can you...h-how is this possible?" Bucky loosened his hold as his brain threatened to combust. He knew him.

"Steve? Steve, you're..." 

As the words left his lips old memories came filing through his mind, but the picture he had of the Steve before the war wouldn't entirely mesh with the Steve he was staring at now. The plucky lil guy who stood up against bullies, the best friend who was always there for him, ready to cheer him up when he came home from work defeated. He was so different, and yet, not. 

"Steve..." Bucky repeated, "do you remember me?" 

Even though this sudden revelation off Steve being _alive_ had whacked him sideways Bucky wasn't a complete fool, he knew that he didn't remember, but he had to try. Bucky had backed off and Steve sat up staring back blankly. He blinked a few times, shaking his head as if to clear it. An expression of concern fell over his features as he finally opened his mouth to speak.


	4. Chapter 4

"The mission- incomplete... need to debrief, be reset-" His voice was flat, quiet, so unlike the friend Bucky had known. 

Bucky shook his head gently, holding his palms out in what he hoped was a calming, submissive gesture. "Steve, no, over my fuckin' dead body. I'll be damned if you're going back to Hydra. You don't _need_ to do anything for them. Not anymore."

His best friend, Steve, the soldier, was just staring back at him. Bucky's heart dropped in his chest as it was clear there was no recognition in Steve's eyes. He bolstered himself and reached his hand out towards him nonetheless.

"I can help... I wanna help you." 

The soldier remained still, except for those steel blue eyes, now clear and scanning, trying to read this stranger who thought he knew him. Called him 'Steve'.

"God, what have they done to you Steve?" Bucky's head swam with hundreds of questions but he dammed them back knowing it would just confuse Steve further. What the hell was he going to do? He couldn't leave him here, let Hydra take him away from him again, that was a definite. But it's not exactly like he could take him home either... Bucky couldn't take his eyes off him, it wasn't just to make sure he didn't run off, but that he couldn't grasp that his Steve was here, with him, okay – maybe previously trying to maim him, but surely he was in there somewhere.

Bucky made to reach into his belt pouch for his phone and the soldier flinched in response, reaching to his thigh holster for a knife that was no longer there, his gaze flashing around the warehouse floor trying to locate it. Bucky slowed his movements and made sure to show Steve that he was no longer a threat. 

"Just gettin' my phone pal, it's okay, at ease." Bucky spoke in a low steady tone and the soldier remained still as he took it out and punched a couple of buttons.

"Yeah Nat, I'm still alive, but I need a favour..."

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Natasha stood on the weathered wooden porch of the upstate safehouse she had taken them to, Steve hovering in the doorway as she glanced through to the kitchen table where the impossible sat there, waiting for his orders. 

Getting him to come with them without a struggle hadn't been as difficult as Bucky had envisaged. When Natasha arrived at the warehouse wide eyed and on guard, Steve had seemed to relax in her presence almost immediately. She ran through commands in every language she knew and the soldier responded to every one of them the same way – "must return, must be reset..."

 

"Buck, are you sure about this, about me leaving you with him like this? He nearly killed Fury..."

Bucky huffed. "I _know_ , I was there."

"We don't know who he is now, what else he's capable of. Hell, Hydra probably has a tracker implanted in that arm and are on their way right this minute."

"Nat I already asked JARVIS to check before you got us, d'ya think I'm that dumb? It's okay, I'll find a way to get through to him. I can handle it. I know Steve's still in there."

Natasha gave him a half smile.

"Just, don't tell Fury okay? Or Maria. Or...well, anybody."

"You are dumb." Nat replied, kissing him on the cheek. "Check in with me, I still wanna know you're not dead Barnes." She said, getting back into the car. 

"Speak soon, Spider." Bucky called after her, closing the door and leaving him alone with the soldier. With Steve. 

Bucky surveyed his uniform, dirt and dried blood, some still seeping from between tears in the black leather. Guess we'd better get a proper look at you buddy, Bucky thought to himself. 

"Soldat, attention." Bucky flatly ordered. With the unmistakable symptoms of some form of memory loss and brainwashing, Natasha advised that it was likely best to stick to what he might have been used to in order to reduce the risk of a mental breakdown occuring. Bucky shook with rage as she recounted intel she had garnered over the years about Hydra and it's methods, and how they might have been applied to Steve. He ground his teeth again thinking about it, forcing himself to calm down. He had to have patience. He could rip Hydra apart once they knew more, but he had to be patient, for Steve. 

The soldier rose to his feet quickly and efficiently. He was taller than Bucky remembered. The servos in the arm whirred as he straightened. Bucky winced as he looked at it, the shining metal muscles, the red star. He felt sick. 

"Inspection." Bucky said quietly, "You have been injured, I am going to check you over."

Bucky waited a moment, and then lifted his hands to the top buckle on his armoured jacket, the soldier remaining still as he undid them one by one. The right shoulder of the jacket was stuck to the skin with caked blood to a deep gash. Bucky carefully tugged it free, fresh blood tricking from the wound. If there was any pain the soldier didn't show it. He let Bucky remove the dirty black undershirt that smelled of sweat, gunsmoke and dust. Bucky threw it straight in the trash and picked up the bottle of antiseptic and gauze from the table. As he turned back to the soldier he saw just how thin he really was. The armour obviously added some bulk, and sure he was strong and had muscles that Bucky didn't remember him having, but he was definitely malnourished. 

"Okay, this first, then we get some food in you." Bucky nodded, walking around him to check his back.

The soldier's eyes flickered nervously.

"I'm not going to harm you." Bucky assured as he dabbed the shoulder gash clean, all the while unable to take his eyes from the rugged lines of scar tissue at the juncture where the metal arm somehow fused and became part of his body. 

"I'll never let them hurt you again."

 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

 

Bucky finished cleaning him up as best he could realising that Steve's wounds were healing faster than any normal person's should, the bruises on his long-ago fragile ribs fading through all the colours in mere hours before disappearing completely. Hydra got their hands on the serum then. 

Bucky led him to the bathroom where he'd removed anything that could possibly be utilised as a weapon, pointed the soldier at the shower and left him to it. He started cooking up some chicken, potatoes and vegetables and after a while stopped to listen. There hadn't been any sound of water running. 

He stood outside the bathroom door. "Ste- soldier?"  
When there was no answer he pushed the door open to find him still standing there, shaking. 

"Shit." 

Time for a different approach. Bucky put the plug in the bath and turned on the hot tap, cascades of steam billowing up and filling the room. "Maybe a bath is better, huh?"

The soldier moved away from the shower towards the bath, eyeing it warily.

"A test?" He asked. The first words he had spoken since they got to the safehouse. 

Bucky cringed and shook his head. "No test. You just stink buddy."

The soldier continued staring blankly as the bath filled, still half-dressed.

"You might want to take off the rest of your gear..."

Another blank look. 

"Strip, soldat." Bucky reluctantly ordered. The response was instant as this new Steve, this broken weapon, his once-lost friend, made himself bare and vulnerable before him. Bucky only looked where was neccesary to guide him into the hot water, adding some cold and grabbing the soap from the sink as the soldier sat down in the bath. 

"You can wash yourself?" 

The soldier picked up the soap and ran it over his body in a perfunctory manner. Bucky had to yell at him to stop as he started to scrub so roughly at his dirty blonde hair that his scalp was reddening. 

"Jesus Steve, here, like this." Bucky lathered up his hands and carefully massaged the suds through the mess of his hair, combing his fingers through the strands and then gently rinsing it out. 

Thankfully bathtime passed without any further incident other than small signs that Hydra had more or less treated Steve like an animal. It was clear that he was fearful of the shower. Bucky would rather not dwell on how they cleaned him up after missions. 

Natasha had brought spare clothes for them both and Bucky left a set of sweatpants and a soft shirt in the bathroom for Steve to wear. The soldier walked back into the kitchen as Bucky was serving up dinner. 

"You must be hungry soldat, come sit down and eat."

The soldier slowly moved towards him and dropped to his knees at Bucky's feet, his hands went to Bucky's fly, quickly unzipping his pants and grasping for his cock before Bucky could think. 

"Whoa what- Steve... soldat no!" He staggered backwards redoing his fly as the soldier sat still, head bowed and hands by his sides. Bucky felt sick again. Those fucking cretins, those utter assholes! He steeled himself and manouevered the soldier into a chair placing a plate in front of him. 

"Please Steve, just eat some food."

Once he was satisfied that Steve was starting to feed himself Bucky grabbed his phone and went out to the porch. 

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

The asset decided he would go with the man and the woman. The man made his head hurt but the woman he liked, respected her power. Maybe they would take him home. No, not home – back to base, where he would forget.

The lodge in the forest wasn't what he was expecting. It was far enough away from other people, he would be alone with them. Then the red haired woman left and he was alone with the man. The man that threatened him with the hose and then rewarded him with touch. 

It had felt... good. His warm fingers on his scalp. Soothing. 

It was a test, even though he said it was not. It's always a test. He didn't want his mouth. These orders were so unusual, so confusing. The asset picked up the fork putting the hot food in his own mouth instead. 

Everything was too much, too rich. His stomach heaved and he clattered to the floor retching the meagre mouthful back up onto the tiles. Braced himself for the kick. There was always punishment for failure, always.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

 

Unshed tears stung Bucky's eyes. Anger and guilt flooded him, his heart felt cold and heavy in his chest. Steve had been abused, and he probably didn't even know the half of what Hydra had done to him. 

"Tasha what do I do?" His voice nearly cracking.

"First off, don't blame yourself Buck, there's no way we could have prevented this."

"But I- "

Natasha cut him off immediately. "No. That ain't gonna help, but what will is you being there for him, now."

"I will, I am, I just... don't know how to make him see he doesn't have to be that way anymore."

"Don't _make_ him see, _let_ him see. He needs to trust you Bucky."

Bucky turned back to the kitchen as he heard the crash and saw Steve on the floor seemingly in pain. 

"Fuck, Nat I need to go!"

**Author's Note:**

> Ooh, I'm on Tumblr y'know, [itwasthereaminuteago.tumblr.com](http://itwasthereaminuteago.tumblr.com)


End file.
